


Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Little Boy Gone?

by QueenieSav (flossie1999)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bad Touch Trio, FACE Family, Full House AU, Gen, Minor Spamano - Freeform, and alfred and Erzsébet are definitely best friends, ivan is kind of an ass but i still love him, listen i just really love full house, this is the slightest bit angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 08:07:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11123166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flossie1999/pseuds/QueenieSav
Summary: Alfred is trying to cope with teenage drama on his own with the help of his best friend, Erzsébet. Francis is upset that Alfred won't talk to him about his life. Antonio and Gilbert get locked in the basement and Matthew and Veronique settle into sharing a room. Full House AU with Bad Touch Trio and FACE Family.





	Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Little Boy Gone?

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey hey. im back with new story that absolutely no one asked for. anyway this is basically just an episode of full house but with the bad touch trio/FACE family (its season 5, episode 4). i just really love full house. enjoy, i guess.
> 
> oh. veronique is seychelles

“Alright, Veronique! My new studio is all done! Look at all my new paints and brushes!” Antonio exclaimed to his over-excited niece.

“You’ve got better toys than I do!” Veronique announced, picking up a tube of teal acrylic paint. 

“To celebrate my new studio, we’ll paint a picture. What kind of picture do you want to paint?” Antonio asked, squatting down to Veronique’s level.  
“A dog!” she shouted.

“Ok, let’s paint a dog. Here are your finger paints, Veronique,” Antonio handed his niece a small bucket brightly-coloured finger paints.

“No! I want to paint with the big kid paints!” the toddler shrieked and pointed at Antonio’s bucket of acrylic paints. Antonio chuckled and moved to collect a canvas and his acrylic paints. 

“I’ll help you paint a dog with the big kid paints and we’ll hang it right here,” Antonio pointed to an empty space on the wall of his new studio. “It’s the place of honour! Only the best artists get their art displayed on my wall!” Veronique giggled and reached for a paintbrush.

 

Francis finished slicing onions and put down the knife. 

“What could possibly be taking Antonio and Veronique so long in the basement?” he muttered to himself as he bent to search through the cabinets for a suitable pan. No sooner had he opened the cabinet than the back door opened.

“You’ve got to tell me, Erzsébet! This is a nightmare!” Alfred exclaimed, throwing his backpack on the table. Francis’ interest was immediately piqued. 

“What’s a nightmare?” he asked, standing up to look at his son. 

“Oh. Uh, this savings and loan crisis?” Alfred said, making his statement seem more like a question. Erzsébet shot Alfred an amused look. 

“Anyway, Dad, why are you hiding behind the counter?” Alfred asked, more to change than subject than out of actual interest.

“Oh, I wasn’t hiding. I was just looking for a pan so that I can cook dinner,” Francis explained.

“Right. I forgot it was Family Friday,” Alfred muttered. Erzsébet smiled and then cleared her throat.

“Ok, well I gotta split. Always good to see you, Mr. Bonnefoy,” she said, attempting to make it out of the door before Alfred could catch her. She wasn’t quick enough. Alfred latched on to Erzsébet’s wrist and pulled her back into the house.

“Oh, no you don’t. We still need to talk,” Alfred insisted, dragging his friend through the kitchen and up the stairs. Erzsébet shot Francis one last pleading look.

 

“Ok, spill it, Erzsé. Why is everyone talking behind my back?” Alfred inquired once the two of them had reached the upper landing.

“Because they don’t have to guts to tell you to your face. See, ya!” Erzsébet said in a rush before attempting to bolt down the stairs. Alfred grabbed her wrist again.

“Come on, Erzsébet, tell me,” Alfred demanded after he had forced his friend into his bedroom. Erzsébet swallowed and nervously looked around Alfred’s room.

“I love what you’ve done with the place!” she said, even though she knew very well Alfred had not done anything to his bedroom. 

“Erzsébet, please, I’m desperate. Look at this note I got from Toris,” Alfred begged, pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. Erzsébet took the paper and flopped onto Alfred’s bed.

“My thoughts are with you during your mega-crisis. Toris,” Erzsébet read aloud. Alfred groaned from his spot at his desk.

“Apparently I’m having a mega-crisis and I don’t even know what it is!” he exclaimed, looking at Erzsébet who was very pointedly avoiding his gaze. 

“Fine, I’ll tell you,” Erzsébet muttered. “I guess it’s better that you hear it from me anyway. There’s a rumour going around that you’re the worst kisser in school,” Erzsébet explained. Alfred look equal parts horrified and indignant. 

“I am not! Who said that?” Alfred exclaimed. 

“Ivan Braginsky,” Erzsébet said.

“Ivan Braginsky! I’ll kill him! We were at the library and he tried to kiss me but I wouldn’t let him! So now he’s telling everyone that I’m the worst kisser in school?” Alfred shouted. 

“Calm down, Alfred. I know you’re not the worst kisser in school. That’s just the word that’s going around,” Erzsébet said. Alfred groaned again.

“I’ll kill him,” he muttered. A knock resounded at the door. Alfred quickly shoved the letter from Toris under a pile of dirty clothes before the door opened.

“Hello, mon chou, how was school today?” Francis asked as he entered the room. Even though the question was meant for Alfred, Erzsébet took the liberty to answer it.

“Great, Mr. Bonnefoy! Thanks for asking,” she said, flashing her mischievous smile. Francis shot her a look.

“It’s just that you seemed upset, Alfred,” Francis said, pointedly saying Alfred’s name this time. “Just remember that you can tell me anything.”

“Actually, Dad, there is something that I want to say to you,” Alfred answered. Francis’ face lit up.

“Of course, of course! What is it?” he asked, stepping farther into the room.

“We want to be alone,” Alfred deadpanned. Francis’ face fell and Erzsébet snorted. 

“Oh. Ok. I have to get back to the food anyway,” Francis said, flashing a hurt look before he left the room.

“Ugh. This kissing rumour could ruin my social life forever!” Alfred said as soon as his bedroom door was shut. “How far has this rumour gone?” Erzsébet’s face contorted into fake concentration.

“I don’t know. I heard it from my chemistry teacher,” she finally said. Alfred’s heart dropped.

 

“Living on this side of the room is gonna be so cool!” Matthew exclaimed, dropping an armful of his belongings on the bed that once belonged to his brother. Veronique watched him situate all of his things before she spoke. 

“My side is gonna be cool, too!” she said, pointing to the giant teddy bear the Antonio had bought her.

“That is not staying in my room,” Matthew decided, eyeing the teddy bear. Veronique pouted.

“It’s my room, too!” she asserted. Matthew stared at his sister as slight guilt started to eat away at him.

“You’re right. It is. I’m sorry Veronique, your bear can stay,” he resigned after a moment. 

“Hello, my loves!” Francis called as he breezed into their shared room. “Matthew, did Alfred happen to tell you if anything happened at school that would have upset him?” he asked. Matthew sighed.

“Dad, I live with a pre-schooler. The only hot rumours I hear is who put their mouth on the water fountain,” he answered. Veronique grumbled and Francis smiled.

“Of course. Just let me know if he tells you anything,” Francis said before leaving the room.

 

It was eating Francis alive. What could have bothered Alfred so much that he would shut himself off from Francis like that? 

“There’s no sense worrying about that now,” Francis mumbled to himself, glaring at the hamper of clothes that were in desperate need of a washing. Suddenly an idea came to him. 

Alfred always had dirty clothes littering his bedroom floor. Francis would have to go collect it before he started a load of laundry anyway. But the added bonus to this laundry collection was that Alfred and Erzsébet had gone out earlier and wouldn’t be back for at least a few more hours. Francis would have the opportunity to look around a bit in Alfred’s room for any evidence as to what was bothering him. Francis smiled and made his way upstairs to collect Alfred’s clothes.

Francis waited half a beat after knocking on Alfred’s door before opening it. Even though he knew that Alfred wasn’t home, Francis refused to break rule number one of Alfred’s room: always knock. 

Francis began to slowly collect the reeking and stained clothes off the floor, taking much longer than necessary. Finally, he reached the last pile of laundry. After this pile, Francis had to make up his mind as to whether or not he would go through his son’s closet and drawers to find out what was bothering him.   
It turns out that Francis wouldn’t need to come to that decision. Buried under all of the socks and sweat-stained t-shirts of that last pile, Francis found a crumpled piece of paper. 

“My thoughts are with you during your mega-crisis. Toris,” Francis read. His eyebrows furrowed. Mega-crisis? What sort of mega-crisis? Surely this must be what was bothering Alfred. Francis placed the paper back on the floor before exiting to actually do the laundry. 

 

“Ok, watch as I screw in this lightbulb,” Antonio said. Gilbert watched with rapt attention and Lovino watched with disbelief. Once Antonio had finished, he stood back on held up his hands as if he had done some great feat. Gilbert grinned and clapped him on the back. Lovino pressed his finger to the bridge of his nose and swore quietly. 

“This is important, Lovi. When this red light is on, I am painting and I am not to be disturbed. At all. For anything,” Antonio insisted, pointedly looking at Gilbert. Gilbert, oblivious, asked questions anyway.

“What if Godzilla attacks like in those old Japanese films?” Antonio and Lovino both stared at Gilbert with looks of profound disbelief.

“Oh, Dio. You are an idiot,” Lovino stated. Antonio nodded in fervent agreement. 

“Shut up, you love me,” Gilbert jabbed back. Antonio smiled. Lovino continued to stare at Gilbert. 

“Come on, Gil. Let’s leave my lovely husband alone before he kills us,” Antonio said, gesturing for Gilbert to follow him down the stairs.

“This is a big moment, Toni,” Gilbert announced once they had reached relative safety from Lovino within Antonio’s studio.

“I know! I finally have a studio to work in,” Antonio agreed.

“Oh. I guess that, too. I was talking about how you’re doing art full-time again and I’m going back to school. We won’t be able to spend every waking moment together anymore. I’m really gonna miss you,” Gilbert cried, throwing his arms around Antonio.

“Get off, Gilbert. We live in the same house. We’ll still see each other. Now go upstairs, the red light is on. I’m painting. Go,” Antonio shooed Gilbert back towards the stairs.

“Oh, so you’re just going to force back within reach of your husband?” Gilbert inquired indignantly. 

“Just don’t let him see you and you’ll be fine,” Antonio encouraged with a smile. Gilbert harrumphed and grabbed the doorknob, which promptly came off in his hand. Antonio and Gilbert both stared at the knob. 

“That’s impossible,” Antonio stated.

“Obviously it’s not,” Gilbert replied.

“But I put it on myself,” Antonio insisted.

“That explains why it came off. I’m the home improvement guy around here. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Gilbert quipped.

“Just give it here. I’ll put it back in,” Antonio said and grabbed the knob. He tried to force the knob back into the door, but it was to no avail.

“We’re locked in here, Gil,” he finally announced. 

“We’ll just call for help,” Gilbert determined. Antonio nodded in agreement.

 

Francis ended up in the kitchen. 

“Hey, Lovino,” Francis said, taking note of the fact that Lovino’s sandwich had an inordinate amount of mustard. Lovino hummed a greeting.

“Are Gilbert and Antonio downstairs?” Francis asked. He could hear what sounded like calls for help coming from the direction of the basement. 

“Yeah. But don’t go down there. The red light is on,” Lovino nodded toward the red lightbulb that Antonio had taken such care to screw in. “It means that they’re busy,” he explained when Francis fixed him with a questioning look.

“They sound like they’re calling for help,” Francis said.

“I wouldn’t be too worried. They’re idiots,” Lovino assured him. 

“I could actually use some help myself,” Francis stated, taking a seat that the breakfast bar. Lovino put down his mustard knife and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Alfred’s having a ‘mega-crisis’ and he won’t talk to me about it,” Francis explained. Lovino’s brow furrowed.

“Then how do you know that he’s having this ‘mega-crisis?’” he asked. Francis worried his lip a bit.

“I actually did a little snooping. I didn’t go through his drawers or anything!” he exclaimed when he saw Lovino’s eyebrows shoot up. “I just found a note under some dirty laundry that mentioned a mega-crisis,” Francis explained. Lovino opened his mouth to reply when Alfred and Erzsébet burst into the kitchen.

“Bye, Dad! Erzsébet and I are going to mall!” Alfred said.

“Wait, Alfred. Is something wrong? Is there a problem at school or something?” Francis asked, searching his son’s face for any sign of upset.

“I don’t have a problem, Dad. Erzsébet do I have a problem?” Alfred asked.

“Your dad is nosy,” Erzsébet mutter under her breath. Francis shot her a look and Lovino and Alfred smiled. 

“Dad. I’m fine. Really. We have to go. Bye!” Alfred called over his shoulder as he and Erzsébet ran through the kitchen and to the living room. Francis turned to Lovino.

“He lied right to my face,” Francis huffed. Lovino rolled his eyes. 

“You lied, too, idiot. You never told him that you snooped through his room,” Lovino pointed out. Francis floundered for a reply before he finally sighed.

“What’s happening to us, Lovino? We used to be so close. I feel like I’m losing my little boy,” Francis despaired. Lovino fixed him with curiously sad eyes.

 

“Erzsé, we need a plan. We have to get people to stop saying I’m a bad kisser,” Alfred said. Erzsébet grinned her mischievous grin.

“Just kiss every guy in school until they change their mind,” she replied. Alfred rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak as Francis walked into the living room. 

“Alfred, wait!” Francis cried, as though his son had already left the house. Alfred waited patiently for his father to continue.

“I was just thinking that we never hang out anymore. Why don’t the two of us hang out tonight?” Francis said.

“Dad we can’t just hang out. Erzsébet and I are already hanging out,” Alfred answered. Francis breezed over that statement.

“Why don’t we go bowling! You used to love bowling,” Francis said. Alfred rolled his eyes and Erzsébet snickered. 

“Dad I hate bowling with you. You suck at it,” Alfred reminded Francis. Francis’ smile dropped the slightest bit. Alfred noticed this change.

“Uh, Erzsébet, why don’t you go to the mall without me or something? We’ll hand out another time,” Alfred assured her. She grumbled nonetheless.

“Alright, Dad. I guess we can go bowling,” Alfred consented after glancing at his father’s hopeful face. Francis’ face was overtaken by a smile.

 

Matthew stared at Veronique’s teddy bear. 

“I can’t stand it looking at me,” he decided. Veronique followed his gaze to the teddy bear.

“He likes you,” she declared. Matthew huffed.

“I have an idea, Veronique. How would you like to be in the big kids’ club?” he asked. Veronique puffed out her chest.

“I’m a big kid so I should be in the big kids’ club,” she answered. Matthew smiled. He knew just how to play his sister. 

“You’re right, Veronique. All we have to do is get rid of all our little kid stuff,” Matthew explained. Veronique soured.

“You’re talking about my bear,” she stated.

“Only little kids have giant teddy bears,” Matthew countered.

“Uncle Toni bought that for me,” Veronique reminded him.

“I know, but this is a part of growing up,” he insisted. “I’ll get rid of it for you. That way it won’t hurt so much,” he offered. Veronique nodded.

“Ok. And I can get rid of Kumajiro for you!” she exclaimed. Matthew froze.

“Do not touch Kumajiro,” he warned. 

“But you said there are no bears in the big kids’ club,” Veronique said. 

“No, Veronique, I said no giant bears in the big kids’ club. Kumajiro isn’t giant,” Matthew argued. 

“That’s not fair,” Veronique decided. Matthew had to agree that she had a good point.

“Fine. You bear can stay,” he consented. Veronique smiled smugly.

 

 

“Ok, Toni. If we both get a running start and hit the door at the same time, it’ll open,” Gilbert said. Antonio looked sceptical but they really had no other choice.

“We can give it a try. I’ll count,” Antonio announced, moving into a position in which both he and Gilbert could run up the stairs and knock open the door.

As soon as Antonio began his sprint up the stairs, Gilbert threw his hands up and demanded that they stop.

“Look, Toni. You left the red light on,” Gilbert said, pointing to the light switch that controlled the light that Antonio was so adamant about. “No wonder no one has come to our rescue,” Gilbert mumbled. Antonio rolled his eyes and impatiently flicked off the switch. 

Approximately one minute later, Lovino opened the door. 

“Lunch is ready,” he announced as he descended the stairs. “You must have painted the entirety of St. John’s Basilica based on how long that stupid red light was on,” Lovino quipped, poking Antonio’s chest. 

“Something like that, mi vida,” Antonio mumbled as Gilbert giggled.

 

“Ok, mon chou, watch me,” Francis instructed as he picked up a bowling ball.

“Dad you suck at bowling. I thought I already told you this,” Alfred reminded him. 

“Just watch!” Francis shushed him. He threw the ball. Predictably, it ended up in the gutter. Alfred rolled his eyes and laughed.

“I told you, Dad!” he snorted. Francis smiled over his shoulder at his son. 

“See if you can do better, then!” Francis challenged.

“Dad, literally anything is better than a gutter ball,” Alfred said, picking up his own bowling ball. He managed to do substantially better than his father by getting a spare. Francis pretended that Alfred bowled a gutter ball anyway.

“I’m here to help you with your problems, Alfred. Whether they be in bowling or at home or at school,” he reminded Alfred. Alfred rolled his eyes again. 

“Dad, I’m still fine,” Alfred insisted. Francis nodded and moved to get his ball. Out of the corner of his eye, Francis saw Erzsébet walking toward them.

“Hey Alfred! Mr. Bonnefoy!” she yelled from halfway across the building. Francis put his ball back on the rack and waited to see what had brought his son’s friend to the bowling alley.

“Alfred we have to get to the mall right away,” Erzsébet declared when she closer to their lane. Alfred glanced at his father.

“Dad, isn’t it your turn?” Alfred reminded him. Francis nodded and picked up his ball again. 

“Ivan is at the food court spreading more rumours about you,” Francis overheard Erzsébet’s urgent whisper. Alfred groaned.

“Dad, I’ve really got to go to the mall with Erzsébet,” Alfred called. Francis fixed the two children with a critical look.

“Right now, Alfred? We were having a good time. Just father and son,” Francis said. 

“Dad, I know and I’m sorry. But one of my friends needs me,” Alfred explained. Francis sighed.

“Fine. Go to the mall. Don’t stay out too late,” Francis said.

“Thanks, Dad! You’re the best!” Alfred and Erzsébet ran through the building without looking back. 

 

Francis sat on the couch with a glass of wine. 

“Alfred is growing up. He doesn’t need me anymore,” he said to himself and took a shallow sip of the wine. 

“Hey, Dad!” Alfred exclaimed, bursting through the front door. 

“Alfred. We need to talk,” Francis announced as Alfred tried to sneak up the stairs.

“Ok, Dad. How was the game?” Alfred asked.

“Not about bowling. We need to talk about what’s going on with you,” Francis clarified. Alfred’s face fell. 

“Dad, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong,” Alfred said, on his way to the kitchen.

“Since when is a mega-crisis nothing?” Francis demanded. Alfred stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly turned and fixed his father with an icy glare.

“A mega-crisis? What gives you that idea?” he asked, voice low.

“Um. I don’t know. It’s just something that popped into my head,” Francis tried to explain. Alfred’s glare turned even colder. 

“You mean that you just popped into my room and went through my things,” Alfred clarified.

“It was an accident. I was just collecting laundry. And you seemed like you were upset,” Francis said. Alfred stared at him in disbelief. 

“Don’t lie, Dad. You were spying on me,” Alfred said.

“Alfred, please. You wouldn’t talk to me. What was I supposed to do?” Francis asked.

“I wasn’t talking to you because it wasn’t any of your business!” Alfred exclaimed. 

“Alfred,” Francis’ tone was warning. “I don’t like this attitude and I don’t like fighting with you,” Francis said.

“And I don’t like you going through my things!” Alfred shouted. 

“I’m your parent Alfred, I can go through your things if I want,” Francis insisted. Alfred stomped up the stairs.

“Stay out of my room and stay out of my life!” he called back to Francis, who was following him.

“Alfred!” Francis shouted. “I’m not done talking to you!”

“Well, I’m done listening!” Alfred slammed the door. Francis immediately opened it and barged into Alfred’s room.

“You don’t even knock! That’s rule number one! You have no respect for my boundaries!” Alfred yelled. 

“Respect? Don’t you talk to me about respect, young man. You’re the one slamming doors and yelling in my face. What happened to my sweet little Alfie?” Francis asked.

“Don’t you understand? I’m not your little boy anymore!” Alfred answered. All the life seemed to go out of Francis as soon as Alfred said that. 

“Dad. I’m sorry,” Alfred said quietly.

“Me, too, Alfred. I’m sorry, too,” Francis whispered.

“Dad. Please listen to me. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just that I’m growing up. I don’t need to come to you with every problem anymore. I have to start taking care of myself,” Alfred explained.

“You used to tell me everything, Alfred,” Francis reminded him.

“Dad, that was when I was little. When you were my age did you tell your parents everything about your life?” Alfred asked. Francis hesitated.

“No, but my parents were old,” he finally replied. He seemed to think about his statement. “Oh. No. I didn’t tell my parents everything.” 

“Dad, listen. I’ll come to you if I can’t handle a problem by myself. It’s just that I can handle this one myself,” Alfred said gently. 

“I’ll always be here to help you, Alfred. Whenever you need it,” Francis replied. 

“I know, Dad. I love you,” Alfred said.

“I love you, too.” Francis held Alfred tightly in his arms. 

“I’m sorry, Alfred. I should have never gone through your room,” Francis said after a long moment. 

“It’s ok, Dad,” Alfred said, taking a seat on his bed. “So, do you really want to know what my mega-crisis was?” 

“I don’t want to pry but I’m dying to know,” Francis replied, sitting next to Alfred.

“Ivan told everyone that I’m the worst kisser in school,” Alfred explained. A wave of relief washed over Francis.

“Dad, this is not good,” Alfred insisted.

“Of course not, mon chou,” Francis said, smiling at his son.

“Well, anyway, we tracked him down and Erzsébet got him in a headlock and I threatened him with a bottle of mustard until he promised to tell everyone the truth,” Alfred said. Francis laughed. 

After a moment of silence, Francis sighed. 

“Listen, Alfred. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could both set aside some time to just hang out with each other?” he asked. Alfred smiled.

“Of course, Dad. 

Francis wrapped Alfred in his arms again.

**Author's Note:**

> ok so this is the first (possibly the last) full house five ive ever written. comment which (if any) other episode yall want me to write.
> 
> also: thanks, lauren, for not letting me forget about this.


End file.
